RAZORS: A Screwed Up Twilight Love Story
by LeoTheLamb
Summary: "When the one you love, is the one you can't have, what will you do to have him?" Bella Swan isn't your average looking teenager. Her father is abusive, and her mother isn't there anymore. What will happen when the Cullens come to town, and what comes of
1. Chapter 1

**~Hey guys. I am kinda depressed right now. Don't know why, I just am. So, a LONG time ago, I had a Jasper/Bella story called Razors: A Screwed Up Twilight Love Story. Well, I was 18 chapters in, and then I accidentally erased it. So I decided to restart, and hopefully get it right this time. It needed a lot of editing anyways, so I am kind of glad. Thanks for stopping by!~**

**H**

* * *

I thought I was saved.

Yet here I am standing face to face with death.

No prince charming to swoop in at the last second and save me.

_He _is the danger.

I should have known not to trust anyone.

They would only come back to hurt me.

So here I stand.

Preparing to take my last breath.

This really is a screwed up love story.


	2. Chapter 2

**~Okay, so guys, I really wanted to enter the watty awards, but then found out that none of my stories qualified. So ****_Razors _**** is going to be the book that I work my hardest on for next time. If anyone could answer: Do you guys know how often the Wattys are held? Sorry, I am new to the whole contest entry thing. Anyways, I am going to make each chapter at least 1000 words. That is WAY over my normal word count, but I want to do the best I can, and decided my other chapters were already to short. I hope you enjoy chapter one!~**

The pain was like a furnace; constantly burning, tormenting me to the greatest of its ability. Every day was a battle for my life. And school just made it that much worse. I was known throughout Forks as the weird girl who looked like a bum. The girl that was a disgrace to the Swan family. But there was only one disgrace here. The one that remained hidden from view, beneath long sleeved off brand shirts, and cheap concealer that had to be reapplied almost as often as a new bruise formed.  
I was the girl that everyone hated, just because they didn't know me. No one did. They called me a skank. I was a virgin. They told me I smelt like waste. I wasn't allowed to "waste hot water" as Charlie said. I hadn't had a shower in years now. Well. Once. But that is a day that sticks to the back of my mind like honey on a spoon.

_Flahshback_

_ I was fifteen. It was my first day at Forks High. A social worker had come by the barely standing shack the previous week after it was reported that I hadn't ever shown up to school. Charlie's idea -of course- was to stick me in the hot water, saying I refused to go. I got the worst beating of my life that night. After the man left of course.  
Anyways, I had gotten a shower that morning, scrubbing myself clean of the blood and grime, enjoying the hot water on my wounds, as it soothed them. I had used a little bit of the diminishing supply of shampoo, brushing it through my hair with my fingers. I rinsed my hair quickly, the water already getting cold.  
Hastily, I climbed out, pulling a towel around my shivering body. I made my way to my blood stained, empty room. I winced, as I carefully patted my few open wounds dry. I slipped a pair of ratting jeans (the nicest ones I owned) on over my bruised, cut legs. I struggled slightly to pull my to small GAP t-shirt over my head. I slid a too big sweater over that and checked to make sure I looked decent.  
When I was sure that all the bruises were covered, I made my way down stairs. "Bye dad!" I called from the front hallway. I heard him moving. He stumbled into the hallway to join me.  
Glancing up and down he surveyed my appearance. "Did you use MY shower?" He glared at me._

_ "Um, yeah. . ."  
"Did I SAY you could use MY shower?"  
I hesitated. "Answer me you little brat!" He shoved me forward, making my back hit the wall with a thud. I whimpered in pain, at my now cracked shoulder.  
"N- no,"  
"Then why did you do it?" He sneered. His alcohol tainted breath blew in my face.  
"I d-don't kno-know," I stuttered nervously.  
"Well I think you need a lesson!" He grabbed me by the shoulder sharply and I screamed in pain. "Shut up!" He shouted.  
He threw me on the hard kitchen floor, pinning me sharply using one hand for my wrists and throwing his leg on top of my own two battered limbs. He pulled his utility knife out of his back pocket. He slid the switch up, and watched with a grin as the razor slid up.  
He brought it close to my stomach, and moved my shirt out of the way. I expected to be dead. But instead I felt a searing pain tear across my torso.  
He tossed the knife aside, grabbed me by the shoulder again and dragging me to the front door. He opened it, throwing me out onto the sidewalk. "Don't come back until you can learn your place brat!"_

_End Flashback_

I was dragged violently from my thoughts by the front door slamming. Quickly I straitened my current position in front of the stove, stirring the gravy hastily. A drop splashed out of the pan burning me. I yelped at the contact, instantly regretting it. Charlie stalked into the kitchen, sniffing the air. I could feel his gaze on my back.  
"What's for dinner?" He demanded roughly.  
"Steak, potatoes and gravy," I stated softly, trying to keep my voice even.  
"Good." With that he left the room, stomping his boots heavily as he made his way into the reeking living room and switched the television on.  
I retrieved a plate from the cabinet, pulling the steak out of the oven and trimming off any burnt pieces or fat. He hated fat. I sat the trimmings aside, planning to take them upstairs for my dinner tonight. Then I moved to the potato. He hated the skin, so when I pulled it out of the microwave I took a paring knife peeling the skin off.  
I set it with the steak trimmings. Hastily, I poured the gravy on the potato, putting the rest in a small bowl and dropping the trimmings and skin into it.  
I took Charlie his plate, and watched warily as he sighed in pleasure at the aroma. I handed him a fork and the plate, darting into the kitchen to retrieve a napkin for him. I brought it into the living room, handing it to him. "What a well trained daughter I have," He stated, as if I was a dog, but I didn't dare protest.  
"Would you like anything else?" I asked quietly.  
"A beer," He stated through a bite of potato, his eyes glued to the telly.  
I ran into the kitchen, opening the fridge and yanking a bottle out. I grabbed an expired juice box and threw it next to my own dinner. I made my way casually into the living room, smiling to myself at the large dinner I had managed to obtain.  
I handed him the beer, still smiling until he glared at me. All happiness dropped. "What are YOU so happy about?"  
"N-nothing," I muttered, looking down.  
"Better be nothing." He stated, shooing me away as he turned back to the COPS show.

_~.~_

I made my way to my room, a half smile on my lips. I had my dinner in my hands, and was going to sleep good tonight. I silently opened the door to my sanctuary. It may have been dirty, but it was the only place that I could live without fear.

I sat on my thin mattress, diving into my lukewarm meal. I moaned silently in pleasure as it slid down my dry throat. I finished it hastily, in fear of being caught if I didn't. When I was done, I took my dishes down stairs, placing them in the sink, and going into the living room to clean up Charlie's mess. He was asleep, his plate on the lamp table next to him. There was still a bit of potato on the plate.

I took it in the kitchen, downing the potatoe before putting the plate in the sink. I went up to my room and pulled my journal out from under the matress. The pen was almost out of ink, so I kept it short.

_ Dear Diary_

_ Today was a good day. I ate a bigger meal than normal. Tomorrow is Monday. I shall go to school._

_ Bella_

I slid it back under the matress, and shut off the single lightbulb in my room. I was dreading the thought of school tomorrow, but one can't change the future.

_'Or the past...'_

I woke to my shoulder stinging violently. It never had healed correctly, and this caused me to have  
pain now and again. I moaned, clutching it in desperate attempt to numb the searing throb. Slowly,  
but surely, I sat up, glancing through the window that was above my thin, grimy mattress.

The day was foggy, but I could make out the fact that Charlie's cruiser was gone. I placed my hands on either side of me, wincing at the pain as I pushed myself up. I grunted a lot, but managed to stand, carefully making my way over to the door of my room, and carefully opening it. I stumbled down stairs, scooping up the tattered back pack that I had managed to steal from behind the thrift store.

I slung it over my shoulder, and left out the door. Carefully, I locked it behind me. I didn't want Charlie screaming at me again after school. I left the key on the mailbox that was bolted the side of the house for when I got home. Then, I turned, stepping as lightly as possible with my bare feet across the pavement.

~.~

I went through the back entrance of the school, not wanting to have to face the other kids. They hated me, and did whatever they could to make my day worse. I kept my eyes on my bare feet, hating myself. What was so terrible that they couldn't just accept me?

I arrived to World History class early, settling in my seat silently as usual. The teacher had gotten used to this. All of them had. I unzipped my pack, pulling out a ratted notebook that was hardly intact. Every little inch had been almost filled. I never dared to leave a spot blank, using one side for as many lessons as humanly possible.

I played with the tattered edge as a few kids filed in, talking to the teacher and finding an empty seat. I glanced up. They were new students. I stared at them for a second to get a mind shot, the snapped my eyes back down, inspecting it.

There was a short, elvish girl who was no more than four feet tall. Her heals gave little advantage to her short form. Walking beside her was a bronze haired, lanky boy with shocking topaz eyes. His arm snaked around her waist as he knelt down and placed a light kiss on her flawless cheek.

Behind them was a tall, buff man. I instantly shrank into my chair into my chair, shaking the image out of my head. That is one of the odd things about me. I guess you could say that I have the... 'ability' to take a picture of an object, or person with my mind, and the see what they are doing at the exact moment that I want. Like a movie. Except I can see what the person is doing in the present, what he has done in the past, and what he will do in the future.

It is hard to explain. The bell rang, and other students began to file into class. I stared cautiously at my notebook, flinching as Mike Newton, my regular bully tossed himself on my desk while the other students marveled over the strikingly beautiful new classmates.

Before Mike could do anything, Mr. Mason directed him to his seat. I sighed in relief, loosening my tensed body. "Class please turn to page 173 in your textbooks," He commanded. I did so, pulling it out of my desk in a clumsy motion.

I read hungrily, not bothering to stay paced with the slow class. The teacher didn't really care, as long as I still passed the tests with a perfect score. I sighed against my book, closing it when I was done with the chapter. "Done already Ms. Swan?" Mr. Mason questioned, a smirk on his young face.

It was not hard to see that I was his favorite student here at Forks High School. I nodded blushing. "Very well then. You may read ahead a morsel if you wish or come collect your homework and leave for your next class," I heard jealous groans coming from the other students.

I shoved my notebook in the blue, faded backpack and slung it over my shoulder, hurrying to the front of the class. I grasped my homework from the teachers hand, and thanked him silently. I could feel his eyes on my back. There was something about Mr. Mason, what, I was unsure. I sighed in relief. I had made it out of World History okay. The rest of the day would be a complete mystery.

I walked to the library, planning to spend my extra half an hour of free time completing my homework for that night. I pulled the blue chair to one of the tables out, tossing my no longer clutched homework on the table. I walked to the librarian's desk, asking to borrow a pencil, and smiling nervously when she said yes and began rummaging through her desk.

She handed me a blue one with stars on it after sharpening it until its tip was pointed and ready to write with. "Thanks," I muttered gratefully, walking back over to the desk. I finished the first few problems easily. The next few were a bit harder. How was I supposed to know what 7z-3.14 is? The didn't even tell me what z stood for!

I sighed, giving up after multiple times, and shoving the paper in my bag, taking the pencil back to the librarian's desk before leaving. I wandered the halls for a while, before bumping into someone while turning a corner. I fell back, preparing myself to land flat on the ground.

I opened my involuntarily closed eyes, peeking up. I blushed. A blonde haired man had caught my fall, and had pulled me close to his chest so I could regain my balance. "Th-thanks," I muttered, embarrassed at my clumsiness.

"My pleasure," His voice had a southern drawl to it, and I couldn't help but blush more. "My name is Jasper. Jasper Whitlock Hale,"


	3. Chapter 3

Hello my amazing readers! So, I kinda left you with a cliffy there, didn't I? Lol, well, that is why I wan't to update nice and fast! To tell you the truth, I love writing this story, because it is just as much of a surprise for me as it is for you! I am pretty sure I know where the story will end up at last, but as I said, everything in between is what ever comes to mind while typing. Hope you all enjoy this chapter, and happy Friday!~ H

His name sounded familiar. I squinted at him warily. I almost instantly saw a flood of images intrude my mind. I wasn't looking for the past or present. That didn't matter. It was the future that bothered me. Would he turn out like everyone else? I saw him sitting at a table that appeared to be further occupied with people that he could laugh easily with. His siblings perhaps?  
I saw him swimming out into the soft currents of a lake, urgently. I watched the image. He dove under, and came back up with a girl. ME. I shook my eyes from the movie playing in front of me. I looked up at him. He seemed good. After all, he did keep me from landing on my behind.  
He smiled at me. Then he noticed my appearance. I looked down cautiously. He just pulled me closer. I realized then, that I was actually touching another human being, and yanked instantly away, throwing myself out of his reach. He looked startled. Very startled.  
Not wanting to cause more trouble, I turned and began to walk away. Then it happened. Just as I was preparing to turn the corner, I was ambushed by someone. Being pushed up against the wall, I could see it wasn't just someone. It was Mike and his player girlfriends, Lauren and Jessica.  
"So little brat decided to run into the new kid," They had obviously been waiting. For the second time that day, I was saved from normally violent beating.  
"I'm Jasper," he began, distracting Mike. "And for your information, I may be the new kid, but I'm not going to hesitate kicking your ass if need be. So I suggest that you let go of her, and find your little bastard face somewhere else." His voice was threatening enough to make me whimper in fear. He instantly turned toward me, and I slumped down against the wall wishing he wasn't another person here to beat me. I heard the other three run off in some unknown direction.  
"Darlin' whats wrong?" I shook my head, which had begun throbbing again. He placed a hand on my shoulder, causing me to flinch away from him, biting back a scream of fiery pain.

He pulled his hand back cautiously. I hated when this happened. 'Pain fits' as I called them. The bruises all over my body started to feel as if they were bleeding acid. I whimpered through my snapped shut lips. This was one of the easier ones. The ones that were easiest pain wise, but went terribly undisguised.  
I heard a voice from around the corner calling my name. "Bella," As I came into view Mr. Mason rushed over. I shook my head, trying to bribe the pain to go away, just for now at least. "Bella," he knelt beside me, feeling my forehead, checking my pulse, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Bella, one of the new students, alerted me that you were in dire pain. What is wrong?" His voice was laced with undisguised concern.  
I just whimpered, unable to form coherent words at the moment. I was biting my lip to keep from falling into the darkness that was slowly enveloping me. That is just what I needed. A reason for them to take me to a hospital so Charlie could play good guy again.  
I wouldn't let that happen. I tried to sit up. To run away from all the pain, and leave it behind. But the second I began to sit up, it felt as if a million needles were being shot at me from all angles. I couldn't help but scream this time. The sides of my vision were clouded, and I couldn't help but sigh. Charlie might play good guy, but anyway for me to escape this pain, was gladly accepted.  
Then, everything was utterly black.

~.~  
I could hear a beeping. An annoying beeping the wouldn't shut the hell up. I couldn't be in heaven. It wasn't supposed to be this annoying. Hell maybe? This was to dark to be hell. I could faintly here voices muttering, and focused in on them.  
"Alice, it is physically impossible for that much damage to self inflicted. Did you even look at the timing paper? A completely shattered shoulder, that would have to be re-broke and put in a cast to heal right. A very deep wound on her thigh, at least fifty bruises if not more scattered over her body. How can you say she did that to her self?"  
"I still don't believe it. I think she just wants attention." A rather snooty voice in comparison to the first spoke. A door was slammed, startling me into opening my eyes. I was staring at a white ceiling, rather dull in my eyes. The beeping was coming from a machine that had tubes tangled and inserted in my wrist.  
I wasn't in the same clothes that I was wearing when I came, and this caused me to jolt upright in alarm. The beeping got louder, and a blonde man in a white coat instantly was at my side, "Isabella, are you okay, what's wrong?" I looked around the room alarmed.  
"Where's Charlie?" I didn't bother answering the previous question.  
"He is in the waiting room," I froze at these words. The monitor stopped beeping for a second, before starting back up.  
"Isabella, what's wrong? Are you okay?" I shook my head in a daze. I should be used to the fact by now that Charlie is always going to be there to distribute the torture of a penetrating gaze, that only I knew the true meaning behind. This wouldn't be good at all. "Would you like me to go get him?"  
The words brought me back to reality. "No, please no!" His hand backed away from the door knob.  
"Okay then." he sounded startled, worried even.

I sighed in relief, dropping back down onto the pillow. "Isabella," The man began to speak. "I am Dr. Cullen. I and other doctors have done tests, and-"  
"No." I stated simply, cutting him off. I didn't want to deal with this right now. I wanted to have a stress free hour to myself before I had to go back there. Back to the horrible place called 'home'.

**~I know, I know short chapter (i think) but I really want to keep your attention! Hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for the next episode of: *announcer's voice* Razors: The Most Screwed Up Love Story Out There! lol bye!**

**OH! Before you leave I wanna do a poll:**

**Should I have Mr. Mason (it is already obvious he has a crush on Bella) ask Bella out? **

**a) depends what he looks like**

**b) yes!**

**c) NO!**

**My answer, b. Leave urs in the comments!**


	4. Chapter 4

I woke for the second time that day hours later. The shades were drawn, and I couldn't tell what time it was. My eyes searched the room, finding no clock. I sighed, shutting them again. They shot open almost as soon as they closed when a knock sounded at the door. The blond man walked into the room.

I stared at him in fear ridden shock as he spoke. "Isabella I know what is happening to you. I want to help."

He watched me, gauging my reaction. "H-how did you know?" I was trembling. Charlie would surely murder me this time.

"I'm not one to beat around the bush." He stated simply. My eyes wandered, landing on his name tag. I stifled a giggle. He worked in such a dull place, yet his name tag was so bubbly!

©ⓐⓡⓛⓘⓢⓛⓔ ©ⓤⓛⓛⓔⓝ: ⓣⓞⓟ ⓢⓤⓡⓖⓔⓞⓝ

It stated. He looked at me, incredulously, and I remembered the seriousness of the situation. "Sorry," I muttered quickly.

"You need rest." He stated, glaring at my battered form.

"No I'm f-"

"Don't ignore my wishes Swan," He spoke with a deathly edge to his voice.

"Sorry..." I muttered again. He pulled out a walkie talkie, speaking into it.

"Nurse, get me a dose of pain killer, room 309." With that, he left the room, leaving me staring after him in a hazy daze like state.

How did he find out?

I was sure that I had hidden my bruises very well, yet for some reason, my life had taken an unexpected turn. The nurse had brought the pain killer in, and injected it into my IV. After lying in bed for a few minutes, I began to doze off, the pain of previous beatings disappearing.

I woke hours later, still drowsy even after getting such a decent sleep after so long a time. While I was waiting for whoever was to come in the dreary hospital room, the danger of the situation actually hit me. Someone knew. If Charlie found out... I didn't want to think about what would happen.

I looked at my arms. Bruises and cuts lined them up and down. Some were faded; Some were dark purple, and some had been caused just yesterday. I traced a cut that trailed from my wrist to elbow. Carefully, I pressed on a bruise near my shoulder, bending my neck a bit to see in turn from pale yellow to blinding white, before changing back to it's original color.

A knock on the door snapped me from my some what painful trance.

It opened to reveal Dr. Cullen, with a miserable look on his flawless face. "Isabella," He acknowledged my presence with a quick nod. My heart began beating. He knew. He could tell Charlie. He seemed to notice my breathing quicken as he shut the grey-white door.

"Isabella, we need to talk." He performed a questioning motion, which signaled permission to sit on the end of the white hospital bed I was lying in.

"Your father has denied everything. I need your word to confirm the abuse. Don't try to tell me nothing is wrong. You have the bruises to prove it." He looked at me seriously. "I will ensure you are taken into a safe home. But I need your word for it. We can take your father to court, and he can be charged for child neglect and abuse, and violence against another human being, along with knowledge of abuse and continuing to let it go on."

I pondered this thought in fear. Charlie actually knew?! I knew this hour would come but I had hoped I would have longer to prepare before hand. I was in no physical state to take on another beating, especially after this. He would be sure to kill me as soon as he had the chance.

"Isabella, please... I want to hel-" He was cut off by the door opening. A woman walked in. She made her way to Dr. Cullen, pecking him on the lips, and exchanging a few small words with him.

"Isabella, please let me introduce you to my wife. Esme, meet Isabella." She smiled happily, turning to me, and walking forward, opening her arms to embrace me.

"It is so nice to finally meet you Bella! Is it alright if I call you that?" She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders, looking at my face to gauge my reaction to the nickname. I nodded after a moment of letting it roll around my mind.

"Great!" She exclaimed, straitening back up and turning to Carlisle. "Sweetie, I was just coming to tell you that the temporary custody order came through. The court said that as soon as you get her confession that she can come stay with us until the foster care finds her a good family." She spoke as if I wasn't in the room.

Her previous joy was obviously false. She was going to be just like the rest of them.

She left the room after speaking briefly of lunch with Dr. Cullen. I didn't want to stay with them. I didn't want to be stuck with their family if she was like that. Rude.

I sighed heavily.

"What is wrong Isabella?" Dr. Cullen questioned quickly.

"Nothing. I just don't want to-" I stopped. There was so many things that I didn't want to do. I didn't want to admit the abuse. I didn't want to go back "home". I didn't want to stay with his family. I didn't want to tell him that. I didn't want to feel the pain anymore. "live." I finished quickly.

And the truth was, I didn't. It seemed as if my whole life was nothing but pain.

"I am worthless." I stated. "Why would you want to help me. I am like a broken toy. No one wants a broken toy... Everyone wants a new, shiny one."

"Let's just say I am not everyone. And neither is my family."

**PLEASE JUST ONE COMMENT?**


	5. Chapter 5

Even after the doctor left the room, I was still left pondering the reasons he would have to help me. Every other person just told Charlie and left me there. So why now? Ten years later. Why now? I lay on my back and stared up at the cracked ceiling, making pictures out of the almost invisible lines. I saw Dr. Cullen's past.

It was confusing.

It was dark. But not in the way you would think. It was actually pitch black, blinding dark. Almost as if he was being buried alive by something. I listened to the clock tick as I tried to replay what I had seen. But it was impossible. All there was, was darkness. Emptiness. Nothing.

I sighed. It was useless. I looked toward the window. It is tempting. Tempting to end it all. But I will wait. I want to see where this will all lead to...

It would seem to any other person, that deciding to tell your entire past, was a simple task. But for someone who has been through so much... It is a whole 'nother story. The worst memories still haunt me every day. I will never forget that day six years ago...

_I was eleven. Things hadn't been great since I was little. In fact, things had been horrible._ _Terrifying. Charlie was away at work, and I had been at home all day cleaning the dank house_ _to the best of my ability._

_I had bleached the kitchen floors in an attempt to turn them back to their original shining white._ _Of course, my trial had resulted in error. The bottom section of the cabinets under the counters_ _had been stained a lighter color from an accidental bleach mishap._

_I hid the bleach, hoping that Charlie wouldn't notice, and quickly started on making dinner._ _Cheesy pasta casserole. I threw the ingredients together quickly, and put the pan in the oven._ _While I waited I washed the dishes and put them away, ensuring that I cleaned up any other_ _messes before four o' clock._

_I heard the lock on the door open, and stiffened, quickly finishing the sweeping that I was doing._ _The door slammed shut, and Charlie stomped heavily into the kitchen a scowl on his face. I_ _stayed silent, looking out the window and watching the leaves float away in the wind._

_After a moment of silence, he began yelling, and smacked the back of my head._

_"Well aren't you going to ask me how my day was dumb ass?!"_

_I bit my tongue before speaking._

_"How was your day dad?"_

_"Horrible," he began to rant about how people had asked him why I never went outside, and why_ _he never brought me to work with him._

_"Do you know why I don't bring you to work with me?" He questioned a dark edge to his rough_ _voice. I shook my head looking down._

_"BECAUSE YOU ARE A DISGRACE, THAT'S WHY!" He shoved me out of the way, and sat down at_ _the table._

_The stove timer went off then, signaling that the casserole was ready. I quickly grabbed a hand_ _towel, pulling the steaming pan out of the oven and setting it on the burnt stove top._

_I sliced him a piece, setting it in the center of a detailed plate, grabbing a fork and napkin, and_ _taking it to him, setting it before his official appearance. (he hadn't changed out of his police uniform)_

_He snatched the fork, piling a huge bite on it. I watched cautiously as he put the bite in his mouth._ _But, just my luck, he spit it right back out onto the plate. "YOU CALL THIS DINNER?!"_

_I stumbled back as he stood, stomping toward me. I sighed in relief as he walked strait past me._ _But my solace was short lived, as I turned, just in time to see him raise the hot pan of casserole_ _above his head, before bringing it down, dumping the burning contents on me and dropping the_ _searing pan on my legs._

_I screamed._

_Of course, his mind took that moment to realize the cabinets had been stained horribly._

_"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY CABINETS?! CAN YOU GET NOTHING RIGHT YOU_ _UNGRATEFUL RETARD?!"_

_He through random things around the kitchen, tearing through the drawers and cubbies_ _until he found the bleach under a pile of old wash rags, right where I had hidden it. He didn't_ _even yell before he did it._

_He unscrewed the lid while I was focusing on getting the steaming pasta off of my now severely_ _burned legs. The next thing I knew, my wounds were being covered in the bleach, itching and burning_ _a million times worse right away._

_He left me there on the tile, crying in pain. But not before telling me to clean up the mess..._

I lifted the bed covers to look at my legs. The scars were still there, as always. They always would be... That is just the way I am. Scarred. From many things. Burns. Razor cuts. . . . Everything in the book.

I had been hit with beer bottles, spat on while I was in pain. My legs had been broken many times before. But no one had known. Not until now.

I sighed and listened to the sounds around me. The clock was ticking insistently. It turns out when I looked for the time when I first got here, that I had missed the clock hanging in the bathroom...

The beeping of the machine had slowed. That worried me. Why would...

I didn't have time to think anymore. I had been fading slowly, so lost in memory that I hadn't realized it. The beeping was almost gone. And then I heard it. A faint voice. Dr. Cullen's as I remembered it.

I forced my eyes open. Another voice was heard, and I saw two figures bickering beside me. One's arm raised above me, and for a moment, I thought I saw the shining blade of a knife. My assumptions were confirmed when I was met with a sharp stab to my torso.

I heard myself gasp in a breath, and heard Charlie's dark chuckle. A fire began to burn where the wound was. I saw a blurry image of the doctor punching Charlie, and laughed weakly. He was finally getting what he deserved. I sighed. Much to my surprise, the knife wound didn't hurt much.

It was almost as if I were in a dream. The kind where you are restrained from what you want to do. I felt like I was held back from doing something. I didn't know what though.

I watched in amusement as the doctor threw Charlie against the wall, and his body went limp. Another figure entered the room. He seemed familiar, and I could hazily see his blond, shoulder length locks, and blue sweatshirt. I heard the faint beeping stop, and sighed one last time.

So this is what it is like to die...

CARLISLE'S POV! (weren't expecting that were ya?)

Stopping Isabella's father would have been so easy. The simplicity of it was almost torture. The fact that I didn't, was worse. It seemed that for the first time in years, everything was in slow motion. The first feeling that hit me was fear. Fear of losing control and drinking her dry.

Then there was the anger at the realization. I didn't hesitate punching Mr. Swan squarely in the cheek, not even bothering to smile when I heard Isabella's chuckle at her father's pain.

I lifted the fat man by his neck, and through him against the wall, laughing as he hit it and yelled in agony at his cracked shoulder blades. I stalked over, crushing his ankle under my foot, and watching him writhe as the crimson black liquid pooled around his now crushed leg.

I wrapped my hand tightly around his neck, snapping it with ease, and throwing him down onto the tile. I ran to Isabella's bedside, scooping her up in my arms, quickly removing the IV from her wrist and carrying her to the surgical unit.

I kicked open the door to a surgery room, placing her gently on the table, being careful not to jostle her much. Other doctors had come in and I explained about her father coming in the room and stabbing her.

I would explain why he was dead on the floor later. For now, I needed to get this girl fixed.

And who knows who long that will take?


	6. Chapter 6

JASPER'S POV

I ran silently through the forest with Edward and Alice close behind. My footsteps fell with even rhythm, making the world around seem to slow. I stayed alert, listening for any noise from the wilderness surrounding us. My mind wandered back to the girl I had taken to the hospital. She seemed so fragile, as if she had been hurt so many times before.

I sighed, letting my speed slow. My cell rang, and I retrieved it from my pocket with lightening speed. Carlisle's name flashed across the screen. "Hello?" I spoke into the phone, listening for his response.

"Jasper finish up and make your way over to the hospital. That girl you brought in? Her father asked to see her. I didn't think he would try anything, but he had a knife on him and stabbed her torso. Luckily the damage wasn't to horrible, but we still had to bring her into an operating room to remove the knife and clean and bandage the wound."

"Wouldn't Alice have seen that though?" I questioned while running.

"I really don't thing that Alice likes Isabella. At all." I sighed.

"I'm on my way."

I knocked on door 607 when I had finally made it to the 6th floor of Forks General Hospital. Opening it slowly, I peeked in. Sure enough, there was

Isabella, sitting battered in the hospital bed. Asleep, but not in coma. Carlisle was reading a book across the room. "Don't you have a shift going on?" I questioned, surprised he wasn't in another room helping some patient dying of allergies.

"I'm on break. I figured I would spend it here because of her state health wise." I nodded, shutting the door and seating myself in a chair near the bed. I watched Isabella's chest rise and fall as she drew breaths slowly. **(NO NOT IN A PERVERTED WAY YOU PERVS! -_-)**

"How bad is it? The final score I mean? What are the injuries?" I sighed annoyed at myself for my lack of coherent words.

"Well it all tallied up to a fractured shoulder that she will need surgery on -later when she is in a more stable state- to fix, forty-seven bruises on the upper half of her body, sixteen on her lower half, a cracked shin, three cracked ribs, about twenty scars scattered everywhere, and a knife wound on her torso."

I drew in a heavy, unneeded breath. "And all of this was from-"

"Mr. Swan. About that... I came up with the cover story of self defense for me, and Isabella. If someone decides to testify against us for it, we will do what we can, and if worst comes to worst... We run."

I shook my head. "He deserved it. Do you know when she will wake up?"

"No clue about that. It will be a miracle if she wakes before three days... Or even at all for that matter. We did all we could... All that is left is to wait for a miracle. We gathered a bit of information on her other family. Charlie Swan and his wife Renee married in 97. Isabella was born a year prior to that. In 2001, Mrs. Swan disappeared, and wasn't sighted again until a year later when a body was identified as hers in the morgue of LA Hospital, two states away. I believe that is when the abuse started."

I shook my head at the load of info. "So did they find out how Renee died?"

"Nope. But I have a feeling it has to do with Charlie. Something never felt right about that man. And the chances of us having to flee are extremely high, seeing as he is an officer..."

There was silence. I glanced back at Isabella's sleeping form. Her brown, black streaked hair cascaded in knots about the pillow, and even as the gentleman that I normally am, I had to admit, she was _not _beautiful in the state she was in. She was miserable.

A knock at the door made me look up, and I watched as Rosalie, my adoptive sister walked in quietly. "Emmett told me to bring you these for her... He said she would be hungry when she woke up..." She glanced at the girls broken body with a sympathetic look as she held out a bag of chips for Carlisle to grab, before seating herself in a chair beside his.

"How bad is it?" She asked worriedly, watching Isabella as Carlisle repeated what he had told me. Okay, _exactly _what he had told me. Word for word. This man really had his charts memorized... I sighed as I listened again.

"Well it all tallied up to a fractured shoulder that she will need surgery on -later when she is in a more stable state- to fix, forty-seven bruises on the upper half of her body, sixteen on her lower half, a cracked shin, three cracked ribs, about twenty scars scattered everywhere, and a knife wound on her torso."

The words finally registered and I looked up, questioning as I did so. "How are you going to fix her shoulder?"

"Well that would include the process of rebreaking it, and adjusting the bones properly so that they can heal right. A gruesome task really, but it must be done..." He sighed and Rosalie shook her head.

"Why people would be so cruel is beyond me..." She muttered.

I sighed. This would be a long battle for this girl... But then again, Carlisle always had gotten carried away with this sort of thing...


End file.
